


Der Max Kommt Zurück

by Diglossia



Category: Panik
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-24
Updated: 2010-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-06 15:38:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diglossia/pseuds/Diglossia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A shadowy figure from Panik's past appears in T:mo's house. Slash pairings but not central to the fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Der Max Kommt Zurück

It was early spring, the air tinged with winter's cold and melting snow crunching underfoot. There was nothing scheduled for the week and the band had gone to hang out at T:mo's house. His drunken mess of a mother was passed out on her bed and his sister, almost seventeen now, was playing videogames in the living room.

The bandmembers lounged around the parlor next to the kitchen, drinking _Apfelsäure_ and swapping lame jokes. The side door creaked open and laughing voices trailed up the stairs as several people came in. Linke looked up from the book he was reading- his friends had laughed at him for bringing a book along but Linke could carry a conversation while reading so there wasn't much they could complain about- to see a tall girl with a loose braid of dark-blonde hair swinging about her waist stamp into the kitchen. He assumed she was Rose's exchange student, though why T:mo's mother had been allowed to host anyone was beyond him.

Linke turned the page of his book. He shifted in his hard wooden chair, his leg brushing familiarly against Juri's as he slumped further into the seat. The exchange student was no concern of the band's so long as she stayed relatively out of their way.

From what T:mo's little sister said the girl was a free spirit who made friends with everyone from the beggar on the corner to the bus driver of her route to school to the Realschule students who walked past her on their way home. She would sometimes bring people back to the house and sit in the garden talking to them. Today's guest, though, would surprise even Linke, not that he knew it just yet.

The girl called back to someone in accented German, a slight flatness to her r's and a clarity to her l's that gave her nationality away. An American, then.

After a few moments of fiddling with drawers and cabinets, she noticed the band members lounging about the table.

"_Tag_," she said, raising her hand as a greeting.

"Hello," Linke said, folding the corner of the page and putting his book down on the table.

"Hey, Leigh, you got anything to drink?" a man asked.

Linke stiffened and jerked his head up, praying that he was wrong and that voice did not belong to who he thought it did.

A dark form moved towards the girl, smiling into her face. The girl turned towards him, offering him a glass. Linke heard a horribly familiar cough and he closed his eyes in silent agony. Max, Panik's ex-drummer, the asshole who had walked out on T:mo, David, Jan, and Linke years before, was standing in the kitchen, barely ten feet away.

Max glanced up when the girl gestured backhandedly at the men sitting around the parlor table. His eyes flicked from person to person, and Linke had no doubt that Max remembered them.

Linke's thoughts turned instantly to Jan. Max had made Jan's life hell for three months before he left, calling him names, pulling chairs out from under him, even attacking the tiny DJ twice. Linke remembered pulling T:mo off of Max when the drummer had gone down on Jan, leaving bruises along Jan's jaw and chest. Max had struggled against him, yelling obscenities at Jan as the boy cowered against the wall. Max had left an hour later, taking his things with him. Linke and his friends had never heard from Max again.

Linke saw Juri's eyes flick to Jan's blanched face. Juri stiffened, putting a hand in front of Jan and glaring at Max, taking Jan's blatant fear as a sign to protect him. Linke smiled inwardly at his boyfriend's quick action. Jan was shrinking in on himself, his eyes rigidly fixed on Max. Jan's face was white and, even from two seats over, Linke could hear his shallow breathing and the way Jan's chair scraped against the floor as Jan shook.

Movement to his right made Linke look over. T:mo's chair slid back and he stood in an aggressive half-crouch, his hands laid flat against the table. Linke could see the muscles standing out on the rapper's arm, he was braced against the table so hard.

"Get out," T:mo growled.

Max smiled coldly.

"Make me," he said, deadly calm.


End file.
